Scar Tissue That I Wish You Saw
by Zeil
Summary: It's raining hard and House is trapped at home thinking... Mainly of mayhem he could do when someone unwanted drops by. Slash You were warned.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Come on you know I don't have any rights to it.**

**Note: Okay unless your a forgiving short I really think you should read Shattered and All Torn Down before this. There not exactly a series but I think they kind of make more sense together. They can both be found under my profile. This though will have another one too it which I'll probably post as another story in a few days. I garentee nothing though... Oh and the songs are Maroon 5 'She Will be Loved' and The Corrs's 'All In One Day'. Both not mine either.**

**Scar Tissue That I Wish You Saw**

Everyone has a few scars, physical, emotional or otherwise…

The rain fell… in buckets, it poured. Pounded on rooftops and gushed down streets. It trickled down in heavy washes, big fat drops that stung and bit and tiny little hailstones that pelted the pavement and chipped windscreens. Clouds like grated charcoal, which had been clogging the sky for weeks, had finally decided to bleed themselves dry. After almost three days it and it still showed no signs of stopping.

To the contrary the thunder and lightening accompanying it seemed to be getting worse. Huge bolts of white and blue tore up the sky from minute to minute, linked together by ear-splitting bursts of thunder. It would have been pretty really if it were further from the city… Or at least further from House's home. He didn't give a damn about the rest of the city. As it was though, largely it was annoying. The noise made it next to impossible to watch TV and the lights would flicker on and off randomly or perhaps constantly was more appropriate.

This was how House found himself sitting alone in a darkened apartment, with only a few lamps and the radio on. He'd decided to contemplate the world at large, while some new pop song poured out of black speakers… He had given up on it two minutes later though, deciding that the world at large was really boring. So now he was thinking about work. Pathetic really. At some point between considering Cuddy's cleavage and Cameron's constant bouts of crying House had decided that he really needed to get a life.

So far he'd given thought to Wilson saving his job, Cuddy's willingness to let Voglar go over him, though she'd sworn that wasn't the case. Cameron's demand for a date… Thus furthering his opinion that she was incredibly damaged and Chase's… House paused as the radio changed songs. Another new pop piece of dribble. If he weren't so masochistic House would wonder why he tortures himself by listening to station that enviably plays nothing that he likes.

_**Beauty queen of only eighteen**_

_**She had some trouble with herself**_

_**He was always there to help her**_

_**She always belonged to someone else**_

Actually he'd skipped thinking about Chase. Chase for some reason always came with a small flare of anger that House couldn't fathom. Chase had been doing what he could to save his job… From Cameron and Foreman it would have impressed him…

_**I drove for miles and miles**_

_**And wound up at your door**_

_**I've had you so many times but somehow**_

_**I want more**_

From Chase it just pissed him off. House didn't know why, could even begin to fathom why the other was such a prickly topic. He'd actually laughed at Wilson when the other had accused him of being unbalanced... Or at least more so than usual.

_**I don't mind spending everyday**_

_**Out on your corner in the pouring rain**_

_**Look for the girl with the broken smile**_

_**Ask her if she wants to stay awhile**_

_**And she will be loved**_

_**She will be loved**_

But Wilson was right, Chase had him going off on random little hissy fits these days. Hell just someone mentioning him had a caustic reaction usually. It was ridiculous and unsettling and House was mostly just hoping it would wear itself out…

_**I know I tend to get insecure**_

_**It doesn't matter anymore**_

House pulled himself up stiffly and went in search on his pills. Usually they were neatly on hand… He remembered leaving them somewhere in the kitchen right after he'd gotten pissed at the lighting… He found them on a the sink and stood looking out the window as he swallowed down a few too many than the recommended dose… House followed the few umbrellas moving about down below, watched one of his neighbours step out into the storm under a hideous pink little parasol like thing… Wonders how it will ever keep her dry and then doesn't fail to notice the blonde that hurries past her on the stair, free of cover and dripping wet.

_**Tap on my window knock on my door**_

_**I want to make you feel beautiful**_

House leans against the sink contemplating… waiting for the knock and wondering if he should even answer the door. It doesn't matter though because he's still deciding when it comes and he pulls the door open on a half drowned duckling.

_**I know where you hide**_

_**Alone in your car**_

_**Know all of the things that make you who you are**_

Chase's hair was plastered to his head. Blonde strands clinging to water slicked skin. He was disgustingly pale even for him, his lips an alarming shade of blue. Black pant hang soggily from his legs and the white button-up he had on was cleaving and see-through.

_**I know that goodbye means nothing at all**_

His expression was miserable and his breathing was nothing but hot shallow little pants. He looked about ready collapse into the water he was spilling into the corridor. Looked like he was expecting to have the door slammed in his face.

_**Comes back and begs me to catch her every time she falls**_

House stepped aside and he trudged in stiffly.

House sat once again in a dark room, the radio was turned low and the worst of the thunder had passed. House still catching bolts of lightening far off, out his kitchen window. House was right, it was prettier the further away it got. He could imagine it currently reeking havoc on the suburbs, tossing around lawn chairs and scaring children and puppies … It was a warm fuzzy feeling really. Speaking of puppies though…

Chase was curling up on his ridiculously huge three seater. Another large chair he'd purchase and then couldn't work out why because it did nothing for his leg.

The covers had slipped low on the other waist and the firelight was sitting golden against Chase's chest. House's eye danced over to the twisting flames in an effort not to stare at Chase. It was unnatural and rather stalker-ish he'd decided.

Though his staring had more to do with the fact that Chase had shown up on his doorstep uninvited, certainly unwelcome and then almost passed out in his arms.

House had occupied himself for a few hours, the TV had gone on after the storm had started to drift off… But he couldn't focus on anything else… Not that the O.C. required a lot of thought. However it was annoying trying to heckle the actors when Chase kept playing on his mind.

It was about that time that the pacing had started… House going back and forth across the apartment. Fighting the urge to poking Chase with something until he woke. It was something he normally wouldn't have had a problem with… But somehow right now that seemed even too low for him. That was largely how he'd ended up sitting by the fire that he started because the other was freezing and shaking and watching the blankets slip lower and lower on Chase's waist.

_**All in a day - she saw the face in the mirror lie  
To her dismay - she saw the child that was in her die  
And she cried overnight  
'cos what she sees she doesn't like**_

"House?" Chase mumbled as the radio took up another slow depressing tune.

"What?" It was fractured and cut off into a sleepy moan as the other stretched and cast about for recent memories.

"Why am I naked…" Chase murmured in a tone that suggested he thought House had molested him or something.

"Don't flatter yourself…" House grumbled pulling himself up.

"You're not naked…" Chase shifted and felt shorts loosely around his waist.

"You showed up at my door drenched…" House snipped.

"Then you particularly passed out… Any thoughts…" House offered standing over the other. Something lit behind Chase's eyes and his face crumpled into a pained frown.

"I'm sorry…" He mumbled, sobbed really and House felt his curiosity starting to border on caring…

"Chase what are you doing here?" House asked bluntly and Chase flinched, but what did he expect… Tears had started to trickle. Chase turns a hand palm up and opens it, newspaper soggy and crinkled in his hand. House takes the mushie bit and looks over the translucent words…

_Rowan Chase…_

_Loving father… Oh…_

"I'm sorry I…" Chase has shifted, moved to cuddle against the back of the couch like he's afraid of empty space. He looks small and broken and crumbly and House swears that he's still pissed at the other…

"Chase how did you even get here?" House questions pulling up the blanket and climbing down next to the other. Still can't fathom what this compulsion is to hold the other together when he's just as happy to let Cameron and Foreman fall in on themselves.

"I was having lunch and I… I couldn't think, I couldn't breath when I read it… I just bolted, I don't even know if I locked my door." Chase croaked. House sighed and ignored the aching in his leg. He's doing that more and more lately.

"You ran all the way here…" House wondered trying to remember how many blocks they had between them. 50, 60…

"I didn't even know I knew the address." Chase confessed, curling an arm up under his head.

"I never thought I'd care… But you're right… I cracked when I read it and then when I ran… there's… bits of me missing… I can't…" The tears have dried up and House realises that he probably doesn't have any left to cry.

_**I'm twisting  
I'm turning  
I'm aching  
And it's burning**_

"I knew it was coming and it didn't help." Chase mumbles, tired.

House pulls him up onto his chest as he turns over onto his back and Chase buries his face into his chest.

"It gets better." House said quietly.

"I know." Chase mumbled and sighed. Moving over further on top of House. He feels stupid again, just like last time. He's had some huge breakdown and now… No he was still in pieces, still cracked all over.

"I'm never getting some of those pieces back am I?" Chase questioned painfully, because he wanted to go back, wanted never to read the article. Wonders why he didn't skirt the obituaries in the first place.

"Some of them you didn't ever need." House offers and Chase feels a little better.

_**Just let me flow - just let me drift on by  
No more, no more pain  
I don't have tears to cry**_

"House I…" He knows what the others going to say and realises that he doesn't need it anymore… If he ever even did in the first place.

"Forget it Chase." House breathes and strokes the others hair. Teases out the strands of honey between his fingers. Chase buries his face back into House's shoulder…

_**I'm twisting  
I'm turning  
I'm aching  
And it's burning  
In one day**_


	2. BedHead

**A/N: Well here we go more Chase House. Hope you like the direction and there will be more to come. To anyone who's reading In Tatters sorry I was robbed of my computer in the move I only just got it back. I'm still working though. Should be up soon. Oh and their still not mine. Neither are the quotes.**

**Bed-Head  
**

The devil having nothing else to do,

Went off to tempt My Lady Poltagrue.

My Lady, tempted by a private whim,

To his extreme annoyance, tempted him.

Hilaire Bellor

"House!" Chase exclaims at some intolerable hour of the morning… House frowns, rubs his eyes and curses not having taken pills last night. For having slept on the couch with the little blonde travesty beside him.

"Not now honey its too early." He half-almost-snaps and struggles to sit up. House peers at the living room clock through the murk of early morning. 5.15… Oh, god House doesn't even think it should be legal to have a five o'clock in the am… unless one hasn't actually slept yet. He forces himself up onto the armrest and looking over at Chase almost makes it all worth it…

"What?" Chase bites as House starts to snicker.

"Nothing…" House smirks as he pulls himself up at amble into the kitchen desperately in need of serious medication.

Chase looks over into the glass on the coffee table, even in the dark…its still really obvious.

"That's attractive." Chase puffs, leaning head on hands, then vainly trying to smooth hair that looks like it belongs on a troll doll.

"Well that's the price you pay for a good tumble in the sheets…" House says from in the kitchen and Chase's elbows side off his legs as he jerks in surprise. It falls forward and winds up sprawled on the floor barely missing the wood and glass table.

"Damn it House…" Chase groans pulling himself back up to sit more securely on the chair.

"Is it my fault you're a clutz…"Chase looks up and finds House watching him from the doorway.

"I wouldn't have fallen if you hadn't… Did we?…" It's a horrible unsettling thought and Chase's stomach knots instantly. House's eyebrow hitches and he disappears back into the kitchen. Chase frowns and thinks, scours his mind for what happened last night…

"Thank god…" He breathes after realising that if anything did happen it was only in house's head and in which case although still creep he doesn't care.

Chase stumbles up and start to pick frantically for his clothes… They're no where in sight…

"What are you doing…?" House asks insidiously…

"I'm…" Chase voice cuts off as he realises that the neat folded pile by the couch is his… He snatches up his pants and tugs them on quickly, stumbling and hopping madly and wincing when he hears a snicker from the kitchen doorway.

"Should have figured you'd have to be original with everything…" House smirked, the Vicodin setting in with a nice little tingle. There was something to be said by abstaining for a while… Though not much mind you.

"What?" Chase chokes trying vainly to remember which way his shirt should go.

"Stripping is usually done by taking clothes off, a touch more slower too…" House lulled.

"Not that I mind the show…" He dug, because Jesus he deserves to tease at least.

"This is not for your enjoyment…" Chase bites a touch harder than he probably should because its his own fault his here.

"I never pictured you as the love'em and leave'em type." House observes coolly as Chase starts to drop to bits. Was expecting it because last night he was still numb with shock.

"Fucking stupid…" Chase struggles further with the piece of fabric, throwing a tantrum like a child when he succeeds in only getting one arm half on. The fact that the top itself, which House had seriously been considering putting threw a paper shredder, is twisted around itself a half a dozen times probably doesn't help. Chase drops down onto the couch and gives a few hysterical sobs. Then just as inexplicably wipes his nose, stands back up, takes a breath and some how manages to straighten his shirt. Pulling it on and buttoning it over all that scar tissue…

"I've gotta go." Chase breathes as he finishes pulling on shoes…

"Doors open." House offered and Chase bolted.

**Drowning  
**

Imagine that you are creating a fabric of human destiny with the object of making men happy in the end, giving them peace and rest at last, but that it was essential and inevitable to torture to death only one tiny creature… and to found that edifice on its unavenged tears, would you consent to be the architect on those conditions?

Fedor Dostoevsky

Chase hadn't mentioned it and House sure as hell didn't want to. The other never asked for any time off either, which House heard was because an aunt was handling the funeral arrangements. Chase wasn't even attending… His choice… It wasn't House's business. He wasn't Chase's mother… and he didn't make little cooing hushing noises. He didn't pick his ducklings up when they toppled over and scraped their knees. Rather scoffed at them for hurrying in the first place… House didn't do comfort…

Chase concluded after the first half an hour that House liked the sound of his own voice. He stood at the back, both Cameron and Foreman in front. Cuddy had been ordered to instate a new procedure book and have every staff member briefed on it. Foreman and he both had the theory that it was because of House largely not sticking to procedure. Stupid them though the PTB's actually thought this would help.

House was supposed to run through the 30-page sleeping pill overview with them and then they were supposed to study the longer copy in their own time. House though had taken 9t upon himself to not only read through the much longer copy but had also taken to demonstrating and preforming show and tell with various parts. The duckling where all sure it had something to do with the fact that he was due in the clinic.

So far House had managed to turn an hour tops talk into a five-hour spiel filled with charts, graphs and patients. This was how they found themselves in the nursery amongst screaming infants. The one kid in the corner pitching a particularly nasty fit over being given his very first bath… I'm right there with you. Chase thought eyeing the small tub of water from across the room. A flare of clamminess ran across his shoulders and he shifted uncomfortably. Chase looked back at House and tired to focus on the words pouring from his mouth. All he could hear was the nurse.

"Come on, come on Bobby its okay…" Chase fought to swallow, heat flared across his skin in sickening prickly washes. Cold sweat broke out across his forehead and his stomach rolled.

"Come on baby its okay." Sound flickered in and out, or at least what House was saying did. Good thing it wasn't so important after all. Trickles off sweat ran down his back as Chase fought the feeling of water creeping up his legs, his chest, his lungs…

"Chase!" House slammed a book on the table and he could breath again. His knees were water though and his stomach lurched.

"Excuse me." Chase said calmly and then stumbled out of the maternity ward. The stairwell was right across the hall. It was a hospital, there was bathroom everywhere, but Chase found it imperative to almost trip down three flights to get to one.

This was how he found himself bent over a toilet. It wasn't one of those times when you rush and almost puke over the floor, that sudden violent acid wash. Rather this found Chase waiting for it, standing, hands resting against the cool cystine. He wanted to throw up if it would stop the rolling in his stomach, if it would stop the sickly heat in his face. He knew it would. But unfortunately it was one of those times where you dry heave forever first. Until your throat hurts and your head throbs. Where that acerbic burn is welcome because it dulls the dry scratching at the back of your throat.

"Well I can cross off yet another thing on my to do list…" House breathed from outside the open door. Chase hadn't even thought to close it, the bathroom empty when he first entered.

"Bugger off House," He coughed and spluttered.

"What can I help it if I find you tossing your cookies incredibly amusing." House lathered. Chase spat one last time then flushed the toilet.

He straightened up, head giving a violent protest.

"Plus even being a doctor, outside of corpses I've never seen a person turn that colour before." House pricked and wondered what he was even doing. Thought the ashen-green, kind of translucent colour was pretty interesting.

"Just leave it alone House." Chase rasps as he leans over the sink and rinses his mouth.

**Under The Mistletoe  
**

For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds;

Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.

William Shakespeare

"It was very motherly… you know?" House pricks and Chase tenses, feel his stomach knot and realises that he should have been expecting this, because house can't leave anything alone. His like a child ripping legs of an ant. Completely apathetic to the pain they're causing.

"Is that what she called you?" House cuts, scrapes off layers of skin and Chase to his credit ignores him. Looks up at the strings of Christmas decorations that have invaded even the showers.

"Did she call you Bobby…" He's leaned against the lockers, against Chase's locker and the other realises that short of psychically moving him Chase won't House shift before he's ready.

"What are you on now?" Chase snaps and tries not to because that just encourages him..

"Drugs, yourself?" House smirks and Chase rolls his eyes tries to down play how much the others already under his skin.

"House I'm tried can we do the whole verbal sparring thing another time." Chase says rubbing his eyes because lately he feels like too little butter scraped over too much toast. Feels washed out, empty.

"Well then lets just get straight to it then Chase." House offers and Chase doesn't really get it.

"Get to what?" The showers are empty, there perpetually empty and Chase can remember a time when he almost had sex with House right here. Well maybe not almost because he'd been willing but House had… and Chase doesn't even want to go there right now.

"The policies talk." House said clicking his tongue.

"It wasn't anything." Chase offers waspishly.

"Well I know that I often vomit when the hospital brings in new procedures."

"I'm not you." Chase informs as though House would ever even begin to think that.

"You don't wanna share that fine I have my own theories." House breathes.

"Do I even get a choice in hearing them?" Chase says hand on hip and House ignores it completely.

"I think she use to call you Bobby."

"Who?"

"The only 'she' that has ever mattered to you." House bits because he won't spiel it out for Chase just because the little duckling decided to fake ignorance.

"House you really need a hobby." Chase suggests blinking tired eyes.

"Though most people don't puke at the thought of their mothers." House continues on the way Chase is so use to him doing. Normalcy though doesn't stop the tight feeling in his stomach from twisting further.

"At least not the ones who like their mothers." House mumbles absently but deliberately.

"Which make me think you may not have the warmest, fuzziest feelings for her."

"Keep digging House." Chase puffs.

"Did she hurt you?" He pokes slowly, watching Chase stiffen slightly and wonders if it's from indignation or if he's actually on to something.

"House go harass someone else." Chase half orders, stepping closer to the other maybe in the hopes that House will shift off his locker.

"But I like playing with you." Chase sighs at the lewd tones inflecting House's voice.

"I've always wondered how this happened." House teased slipping finger quickly inside of Chase's collar and running fingers over the scars there. Chase shrugged him off angrily.

"It happen exactly how I said it did!" He snarls and House wonders if its because he's hit a nerve or just because he's reminding Chase of another time he was weak, falling apart.

It's like dancing on razorblades. Chase is all sweet sugary crumby sharpness, like frosted glass. Little chips that House nicks his fingers on as he tries to fit them back into place. As he tries to dig them apart.

"Maybe it was late night visits instead to…" The slap is quick and hard and it echoes around the tile room.

House shoves Chase up against the lockers, pins him there and wonders dully if Chase was struggling could he keep him there. Not that it matters because despite the earlier outburst he isn't.

"Owww." House frowns, numb little hot tingles creeping across his jaw and then he has no idea where to go from there. Because he's gone some place that he probably shouldn't have, has said things that he can't take back. Because the cruel not so little sarcastic part of him wants to push until Chase give way again, another part wants something else, argues that it make sense since he has Chase pinned to a locker…

"Chase do you believe what they say about mistletoe?" House questions, noting the piece hanging above them for the first time. Wonders if it was an involuntary effort on his part to put them there.

Chase's eyes flicker up and catch the piece of green and House can feel his heartbeat kick up a notch. Watches the pulse flutter in his throat. His eyes close with a shaky little breath.

"Chase…" House whispers teasingly, breathing against the others neck, felting heat trickling off of the other. Watching heat creeping up into his cheeks.

"Open your eyes…" He sighs almost and moves to the other ear.

"Because I am not, going to kiss you." House almost promises, with a sarcastic little lilt that make heat wash up into Chase's face and he feels stupid for even closing his eyes in the first place. Did he honesty think House meant to kiss him…

"What happened?" House prompts and Chase scoffs, of course, why not! House had already humiliated him in every other way.

"I killed her!" Chase spat like poison.

"Is that what you wanna hear?" He snapped.

"Is it true?" House doesn't even miss a beat.

"Yes…" The cracking voice and sat lilt of his mouth tell House that its true. But House better than anyone knows how many different ways you can feel responsible for something that isn't your fault. Chase jerks away from him.

"And thankyou so much for knowing just where to rub the salt!" Chase spits and House realises that he's leaving. Pulls him back by the collar of yet another atrocious shirt, because he's no where near finished with the other.

Somewhere though in the span of those few seconds House realises that words are just entirely cheap and wrong at this point and breaks his own rule, for Chase no less…


	3. Stand Alone

**A/N: Well here we are again children if anyone's even still with me. Here's my next two contrabutions. After thiss I'm planning one more smaller ficlet and then a longer one which will be threaded through the first season finale. For anyone waiting on the next for In Tatters I'm sorry I promised it weeks ago. But its tougher than I thought so maybe in another two weeks. Thanks for the patients. Okay read on and as usual their not mine.**

**Stand Alone**

From the body one guilty deed a thousand ghostly fears and haunting thoughts proceed.

William Wordsworth

Chase is naked this time… completely stark and he knows it, knows why. Sits up slowly on the bed and pulls his knees up to his chest, the sheet folding around his skin. The airs cool against his skin, steadying in a world where nothing else ever has been. In a world that lies shattered around his feet, tiny incomparable shards and Chase can't even begin to know how to put it back together. Chase presses a warm cheek to cool fabric and listens to the lost notes that trickle into the dark room. Finds it lulling, comforting the way nothing else ever has been.

It's not classical, though Chase doubts he could place it even if it were. Music was never his area, not even after practising until his fingers almost bled. Could almost be envious of how easily notes seem to slip of the others fingers if he didn't feel so peaceful, so adrift from the world.

"Still not tired?" It's murmured sleepily from the doorway and House turns in the half-darkness, because the low fire is casting some light and his eyes slip slowly over Chase. He's a shadowy little spectre cast into a ethereal orange glow. The light catches his hair in a honey halo and House has to wonder if he'd taken the time to straighten it before coming out.

He's moulded to the doorframe, hip curving with the wood, House's sheet wound around and clutched at his chest the way a woman might, the scars bob up past the white smoothness and decorate an angled shoulder. House likes those scars more now than he ever has before, the sheet pooling in light and dark folds.

Through all this House doesn't miss a key and he makes no move to answer the other. Still can't even believe that the others even here because Chase had shoved him away after their… okay his somewhat impromptu kiss. Then had shown up a few hours later just as inexplicably as the last time. Had practically jumped House at the door and House for the most part hadn't complained.

It must have happened though because House's skin still tingles and pricks. The faint taste of Chase still clinging at the back of his throat. Reminding House of the little pieces of crackling candied gum that he'd chew as a child. Remembers it itching his tongue. Chase does the same and it makes sense that the crumbly little fairy-boy would taste like some sugary treat.

So it must have happened because Chase is standing before him now, so it happened or House is having a complete breakdown.

House turns back to the piano keys and taps away lightly.

"When my father walked out…" Chase's voice catches and dies and House keeps on playing not looking at the other.

"I went a little crazy…" Chase breathed, wanting nothing more than to be rid of the weight. But he can't he'll never rid himself of it because he can't even say it.

"My mother and I we lived in this house on Tyres River." Chase shifts closer to the wall and House thinks he may be trying to work himself into the wood.

"Thing about Australia is that the summers are hot and the winters… freezing…" Chase swallowed down razor blades and continued.

"I thought if I made myself sick enough that he'd come back, that whatever was happening with them wouldn't matter." House can here the cool detachment, tears lying just underneath.

"I went swimming in water that was… I don't even know how cold… Just that my arms were numb afterwards." House almost misses the next key, fingers falling heavily.

"One morning… I ummm… I knew it didn't look right… But I ummm, I jumped in anyway and I could hear my mother calling out over my shoulder…" Chase sways a bit in the darkness and House has the sudden desperate urge for Vicodin.

"I guess she was watching the news or something, but there'd been a cold snap overnight and even though it wasn't really cold in the air… the water. It had ice on top; it wasn't very thick just like a plastic coating… But it was freezing… It felt hotter than the boiling water down my shoulder. Then just this terrible gut wrenching numbness." House can feel what's coming next and hates the fact that he's left his drugs in his pants pocket on the bedroom floor.

"Then her arms were around me and that's the last thing I remember…" House forces his fingers to each new key.

"She dived in after me… somehow got me up onto the bank and then… I was hospital for weeks, missed her funeral and the really amusing thing…" Chase bites his lip and frowns, laughs forcedly, bitterly.

"I didn't see even the back of my father… He couldn't even make room in his busy schedule for…" Chase sighs and breathes and holds back tears for a moment and then brushing hair behind his ear lets it go. House's fingers pause over the keys, drop down to rest lightly there.

"I've spent a third of my life blaming everyone!" Chase bites jaggedly.

"I killed my both my parents and my seven year old sister when I was eighteen." House doesn't even have to look to catch the surprised expression.

"My father let me drive the car… slippery bit of road, bad brakes and a semi-truck later and I wake up in hospital with souvenirs of my own…" House tugs his shirt up a bit and shows the long thin streak of raised white which curls along is last rib. Chase had wondered…

"I'm sorry." Chase breathes and means it, wonders if that's why House keeps himself inside such a perfect little bubble.

"No you're not!" House spits.

"Nothing you ever think actually comes out your mouth… You're a boring, shallow, frustrating, little husk of a person." House grinds and Chase looks as though he's been slapped.

"Not that your tale wasn't a tragic little saga… gut-wrenching really…" House tosses a reprinted newspaper article at his feet. Chase can barely see it in the half-light… But can recite it off by heart anyway.

"I suppose your mother slicing her own wrists in the bath is slightly less dramatic… down-plays the whole self-sacrificing mother thing really." House scoffs.

"Fuck you House…" Chase winces.

"Well you should probably stick to what your good at!" The wince deepens and Chase has that violation tinged look. Says nothing because House knows he can't… Chase has been suffocating his whole life.

House pulls himself up, leg aching at his callous actions.

"Give me your hands Robert." He orders… demands.

"W-"

"Now." Chase lifts his arms, palms up just as House new he would. He grabs the others wrists tightly, smirking as he flinches and then turns him to face the fall length mirror that sits so out of place next to his piano. The only remnant of Stacey in an apartment she'd never entered.

"Do you like what you see?" House grates after stretching out the others hands so that the sheet falls.

"I think my scars are…"

"Not your scars dumb-ass, you…"

"What did you want me to tell you House that my mother killed herself… That she had the weigh of an alcoholic mother on her shoulders. A mother dying of liver failure. How I hated her for being so weak and giving my grandmother alcohol when she was sobbing in pain." Chase spits as though it matters, as though it has any bearing on anything… Maybe it does.

"How her husband walked out on her because he decided just that he could. How she needed her son more than anything and the only thing he did was drown her out with music… That's what I was doing House… She was bleeding to death and I was listening to angry teen rock, worried about where my father…"

"Oh cry me a river Bobby…" Chase stiffens.

"Stop making you about them and look at yourself!" House growls because Chase is still not seeing anything.

"You have to live inside your skin Chase, if you can't even look at your reflection then its no wonder that you can't breath." House just about swears. Chase raises his eyes, knows what he'll see. Blonde hair and a pale broken body, with glassy chipped eyes. Nothing like his mothers which had been, so alive, so warm. Or his fathers, who took in everything, missed nothing.

"I can't… I can't bath… I can't even been near a tub full of water since… Its like I'm drowning. Being pulled down into the dark and nothing can stop me. Just falling into nothingness." Chase breathes shakily.

"You just can't stop can you." House derides and Chase honesty doesn't get it this time.

"You put on airs of this damaged little cracking prince. Some pour toppled angel. Some weak piece of fragile crystal. All big teary eyes and pouting, trembling mouth… Because as long as everyone sees this feathery facade nobody notices the real you… Imperfect and selfish…" Its breathed into his ear.

"And you're one to talk!" Chase bites back and there's nothing soft about it.

"You put on enough layers of frost and enough stinging barbs… Layer in enough sarcasm so that nobody will want to be in the same state with you let alone the same room. You're not smart or rude you're just scared. Put them out enough to start with and there's no disappointment when you don't want to offer anything else. Afraid of coming up a little short Gregory." Chase spills and realises only after that he can never take any of it back. Wonders if he'd even want to. If House wants to.

House spun him painfully around, gripping slim shoulders.

"Get dressed and get out!"


	4. Clash

**Clash **

Just because everything is different doesn't mean anything has changed.

Irene Peter

Don't think and talk and don't breathe and it won't be real. It was Chase's new mantra. Something to help him forget a major mistake. Complete denial… So far it wasn't working.

Cameron shifted and straightened her blouse, pulling at material that was already the epitome of pristine. Chase brushed a stray strand behind his ear and looked back down at the notepad he was currently doodling on. Thick black lines clashed with thin papery ones.

"Its good to see you're earning your pay." Chase jumped a slight jerking of his shoulders. He puffed out a breath and turned to glare at the other, about to snap that if House didn't want them all sitting around then he shouldn't call a meeting and then not show up for half an hour. But House isn't talking out the listlessness and scribbles. Couldn't be because his face is buried in a patient file.

"I try." Chase breezes because he's so past it.

"You are… try-ing." House says clicking his tongue.

"And what did I do now?" Chase bites back because House has no right to judge even his medical skills. House closes the patient file and drops it into Chase's lap. His eyes skim over the name and heat flushes his cheeks.

"What the hell are you doing with my patient's files?" The tone sounds violated and House would smile, would revel in the fact that it's now so easy to rile the Australian if it weren't for the fact that he now matched. Every word from Chase's lips was prickling, like a wire brush up and down his back. Every action like fingernails on a chalkboard. Knowing that he was causing the other a similar type of pain merely levelled the field.

"Why did you admit her?" House asked brushing aside the question. It rubbed harder than it usually would have and Chase knew it.

"None of your damn business, that being punctuated by the fact that she's my patient and not yours!" Chase spits.

"Actually I'm your boss; your patients are my patients." House was still standing beside Chase's chair, standing over him and the blonde moved to stand. House placed the tip of his cane over the centre of his chest, putting enough weigh on to hurt. Chase wincing quickly and falling back a bit.

"Like hell they are!" Chase growled; face bright red, almost feverish. House pressed a little harder… wondered briefly how much it would take to crack something.

"Get that thing off of me." Chase hisses and Foreman and Cameron are simply staring. Watching some horrific train-wreck which will crush them too if they try'en help stop even a little section of it.

"Sorry Chase forgot you liked being on top." House tosses casually making a callous jest about a thorn in both their sides. Chase glares, gives House killing looks that clearly say he wouldn't mind if the other were a month old corpse. House wonders almost giddily if he'll be brazen and add his own little patented insult.

"What is your problem?" Chase practically grinds off of his teeth. House doesn't know whether its disappointment he's feeling or just that onset of numbness.

"Just checking your work…" He slides casually.

"Mistakes are your specialty after-all." House digs and Chase fumes.

"Yeah well I have made a couple of huge ones." Chase snaps.

"Leave my patients out of it House." It's a skewed comment that only he and House actually get. Foreman and Cameron are left wondering; still staring at the morbid little play for control that's unfolding before them.

"Speaking of patience- you're testing mine- Bobby." House grates the way only he can and Chase hisses, actually hisses at him, hitting the piece of wood off of his chest. Oh how he hates that name… House plants it back on the floor. Sticking it back on the other right now would be like tossing pebbles at an uncaged tiger.

"Blow me House." He snarls, jerking free of the chair.

"Sorry don't do too well with public performances." House pushes back and he'd laugh at the expressions the other two are now wearing if he weren't so preoccupied. Chase scoffs and heads for the door.

"Chase you'll tell me why you admitted that patient or I'll fire you." House threatens because he's can't resist rattling the cage one more time.

Chase pauses in the door; his back leaned against one, while the other rests against his knee.

"Blackmails cheap House… even for you… As unbelievable as that is." Then he's gone stepping off down the corridor, to where House can only guess.


	5. Pain And Pills

**A/N: yeah they're still not mine. Foretunately for them. To , whoever you happen to be. Thanks I always want anything constructive. Unless its about my spelling because seriously people I know. But yes Chase didn't start out very whiny. Sorry if I put anyone off. To my defense Shattered and All Torn Down were ment to be seperate. When they spawn Scar Tissue I looked back and reliesed they Chase didn't have a set so sorry. Trust me he won't end up all cry-y at the end. Oh and please I don't usually ask, but I'm very nerous about this chapter so if you have anything to say- please reveiw and be honest. Or else anything will change for the better when the next story has Stacey walking in. BigKiss.**

**Pain And Pills**

_Oh, god…It's House…_

Chase steps inside the door and realises as it clicks shut behind him that he has no idea what he's doing here. He and House don't exactly have the best track record and pity would probably just grate on the other, especially from him. So what the hell is he doing?

He finds himself blaming Cameron again when really she doesn't have much to do with it. Because although she dragged both he and Foreman to House's stupid lecture, she can't make him care. Didn't hassle him to come here… He's currently in House's office because he's does care, for some skewed, indefinable reason.

"That was great doctor Chase; now try it the other way." House grumbles from his chair in the dark.

"Ya know, turn around and leave!" House sighs between his teeth and Chase flinches because it's an off beat tone he's never heard before.

"Not gonna happen." Chase says coolly, because if he's learnt anything its that giving House an inch has him taking ten miles. House rolls his eyes and Chase can see it vaguely as his eyes adjust to the low light. He's such an interplay of clashing sides. Such brittle softness and Chase is shocked that he didn't see it before. Is stunned that he never wondered about what type of woman it was that messed him up and how.

"Make it short Chase I'm busy." House breathes.

"OC about to start?" Chase digs, because beneath it all he's still pissed at the other.

"Stock-market reports could be on and I'd still prefer TV to you." It's tired and not particularly cutting. Chase is almost a little disappointed. Because really he thinks the reason he came may have been to fight with the other.

"To think I'd almost forgotten what a miserable bastard you are!" Chase bites, House does nothing, barely breathes and Chase's eyes catch on the flecks of white across his desk. Small little oval drops.

"Hey," House frowns covering his eyes as Chase flicks on the desk lamp, blinking himself.

Dozen's of Vicodin are scattered across the desktop.

"What are you doing?" Chase snips, a feeling, hot and sticky unwinding in his stomach.

"Business-as in none of your." House smirks and there's something so severely off. It's almost like tangible static. A nervous tingling in the air. Maybe it's just Chase.

House picks up one of the white capsules and flicks it up in the air, catches it in his mouth and Chase's frown deepens.

"You could OD on that many." Chase informs as though the other wouldn't know.

"Actually considering how many I've taken today I could OD on five, really." House says nonchalantly and Chase's stomach tightens because surely House is joking.

House tosses up another and misses it, the tiny spec hitting the carpet and bouncing a little. Chase wonders if it's on purpose. Hopes like hell that this is just some sick prank of House's.

"So what your planning on sitting in the dark and swallowing those until you pass out and die." Chase's voice is anger laced and House can hear it clearly. Though mostly the tones just wondering, disbelieving.

"Actually it usually doesn't get that far." House breathes quite calmly and Chase blinks in surprise when really he shouldn't because House flaunts everything and everyone knows it.

"I miss a lot…" House huffs as though its some great crime.

"House are you actually sitting here in the dark trying to kill yourself?" Chase frowns, because it's something that just doesn't fit inside his head.

"Give the man a gold star." House barbs and Chase scoffs.

"You are so full of it!" Chase accuses. House hitches a brow.

"You wouldn't kill yourself. You too much of a miserable bastard to do that kind of a favor for the rest of the world." Chase spits and the brow lifts higher.

"I do this quite often Chase." House informs.

"You make it sound like a game." Chase bites because this is the perversion that is just entirely House.

"Why not?" House lilts and tosses up another oval, misses again.

"It's my life, out of my hands." He says and Chase starts to get it. House would play this type of game. He's crazy enough, just to toss everything to the wind.

"I'm sorry about what Stacey did to you." Chase says earnestly and abstractly because he's not quite sure how to deal with it. Hopes that maybe if he ignores it, it'll just dissipate, like so much smoke and air and… nothing.

"What? Are you gonna hold me tight and pat my back and tell me everything's okay!" House bites.

"Tell me what would you have done… If you were in Stacey's shoes?" House breathes. Watches Chase bite his bottom lip.

"I don't know." Chase says honestly.

"Can't you make everything all better Bobby?" House tears and Chase's cheeks flare red with anger at House's shear nerve. He fumes as the other tosses up another pill and catches it. Swallows, tosses away his life like its nothing. Chase can't believe the hypocrisy that had him fooled for so long. Is so pissed at himself because he couldn't for the longest time see just how human the other was. Can't stamp down the fury that sparks and burns at how wrong and cracked and just plan human House really is. He's pissed at himself… and House too…

"Decision made!" Chase snaps as he knocks the table clear with one long sweep of his arm. Nose rumpled in distaste.

House stares at him passively, watches as Chase sighs disdainfully and pushes back out the door. **Great there's another one walking about.** House thinks ruefully. Then flips open his cell phone and flicks through the memory to a number that has been there for as long as he's had the piece of plastic.

"Stacey, 10 o'clock tomorrow tell your husband not to be late!" House says curtly and flicks the phone closed. Glancing down at all the scattered pills…


	6. InBetween & La Vita Nuova

**A/N: Sorry, I hope this lives up to the rest of the series. Huh like that's hard. But seriously, sorry about the wait and I'm really not to sure about these last stories myself but lately all I've been reading is stories that... Basically, ya know, the world sucks and we're all screwed... Now I like agnst as much as the next person but sometimes you need a happy ending and some humour hope I didn't blow it.**

**In-Between**

_Love does not consist in gazing at each other,_

_But rather in looking together in the same direction._

_Antoine de Saint-Exupery_

"House, it took me a long time to realise that your it, you're 'the one'." Stacey sighed tiredly.

"And of course by being 'the one', I can never actually be the one." House swallowed and it doesn't leave the bad taste at the back of his mouth that it once did.

"Yeah…" One simple word and it basically sums up everything that's between them… Not very much anymore… History, that same painful stretch of memories that's between everyone.

"I can live with that." House breathes.

"'I can live with that!' You actually said that?" Wilson questions as he sips down more scotch.

"I guess." House is out-of-sorts, it's almost an entirely new feeling and already he doesn't like it… at all. He downs another swallow of coke, the sharp acidic wash not really as good as the hot burn of alcohol, but right now he's downed too many pills and is hardly in the mood to try at killing himself.

Quiet falls as Wilson studies House.

"So what happened with Chase?" House looks up at him from glaring at his drink.

"That obvious?" House sighed.

"Cameron was a little more subtle." James offered.

"Though I don't think the other ducklings have noticed." He soothed.

"That's not saying very much, their stupid…" House berated. James leaned his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"So what happened?"

"You mean since I threw him out my apartment… Nothing…" House grumbled.

"Good!"

"What would you do about it?" James had lifted the cup to his lips and coughed as House asked. He spluttered as the hot burn of alcohol hit the back of his throat.

"Greg…" James stuttered, fighting to bite down the tickle still at the back of his throat.

"Chase cried on your shoulder and I told you it was inappropriate. -You ignored that!" James was listing things off his fingers.

"Then, while off your pills you tried to jump him in your office… and I begged you to let it go. Calk it up to withdrawal symptoms I said. You didn't even pretend to listen to that one!" House would move to defend himself, but what would be the point.

"Then ya got pissed at him and if it were anyone else who'd sold you out. You probably would have shrugged it off. But not Chase-who you don't actually have any feelings for! I told you to fire him… But no Gregory House couldn't possibly take friendly advice." He wasn't even half done.

"No, you couldn't possible fire him, not when you wanted to torture him… Shockingly of course that goes straight out the window when he turns up on your doorstep. Dripping wet and please, please tell me you were thinking straight then… Thinking with the head on top of your shoulders because I need a good laugh…" James's cheek were flushed bright red.

"And you called for advice then and I told you, I told you too wake him up, get him dressed and send him on his way. But no, by now I should know that you can't ever do the easy thing." He scoffed.

"So after sleeping with him and ignoring everything, absolutely everything I've told you to do so far, what is it exactly that you would like for me to say!" James scowled, House looked on with vague disinterest.

"Oh, why the hell couldn't you just hook up with Cameron like any normal person." James groaned, downing the rest of his drink.

"Oh, so dating Cameron that wouldn't taking advantage of my position as her boss but with Chase it would!" House frowned.

"Who said anything about that… You and Chase are just a disaster together. Not a little one either… like an earthquake or a ten car pile-up…"

"So what would you do…"

"Run that other way screaming…" James pushed and House glared.

"God, I don't know, shove him up against a wall, seems to working well for ya so far!" Another pointed look.

"Please, now I'd probably get punched in the face!" House frowned.

"Woo him…" James blurted and House's look was insidious.

"Don't glare at me… you're the one who pissed him off." James snapped.

"Woo him? How?"

"I don't know. I've been married three times and not only did they all fail they were all women…" James defended.

"Flowers and chocolate?" House offered.

"I… guess…" He frowned…

"Though you may also wanna try not being… so much like… you!" James smirked. House seemed to take it to heart though. James leaned back in his chair and called for another drink.

"God House why can't it be the ditsy brunette, why does it always have to be the temperamental blonde." He sighed.

"To be fair the last one was a temperamental brunette."

**La Vita Nuova**

_Great minds think alike- and fools seldom differ!_

**Wednesday **

Cameron tapped her foot and listened the incessant beat that trickled through her headphones. She spooned cereal into her mouth, while fighting back yet another long-suffering yawn. God these early shifts were killing her.

The door swung inward and Cameron looked up to greet… Chase or Foreman or House… Pretty much anyone other than a delivery guy in blue uniform. She frowned for a second, watching him deposit a rather hefty bouquet of red roses and crystal vase down near the window. Two more followed it, carried in by another two florists. These though were a soft shade of white.

Cameron removed the speakers.

"Excuse me? This it's a patient's room…" She pointed out. The original intruder seemed to notice her for the first time.

"No, these are suppose to go to break room 422…" He said.

"Well that's here but…"

"They're addressed to a doctor Chase." Cameron's jaw dropped.

"Someone sent these to Chase." She beamed.

"Oh, how sweet." She smiled.

"Actually I do need a signature before I go, can I just grab one from you… It's just to say that we did actually deliver them…" He gestured.

"Oh, sure…"

"Three bouquets, two white one red and the vases…" He explained.

"Right." She scrawled where he pointed.

"You really sent him flowers?" James frowned as he and House shuffled up the fourth floor corridor.

"Roses. Is that tacky?" House mumbled.

"No… it's cute. Just not something I would've thought you'd come up with." James said carefully.

"Well I could have went with two dozen live scorpions- but somehow that just seemed a little too fuzzy to me." House layered. Wilson smirked.

"When are they arriving?" he asked.

"Soon already be here if the companies not a bunch of complete idiots." House grumbled.

"House you really are a hopeless romantic." James sighed.

"Oh bite me."

"Looks like their only complete half-wits." James joked as they rounded a corner and a rose filled break room came into view through glass windows. Something else though was slightly off…

"Where the hell are the ducklings?" Wilson asked as they stopped level with the empty room.

"Hey," They turned to find Cameron standing half out the door of House's empty office.

"Okay…" Wilson said in confusion as they both headed back the way they'd come.

Cameron had disappeared back inside and House opened the door to find Foreman sprawled out in a chair they'd obviously brought in, Cameron standing in the corner and Chase sitting on his desk.

They all looked normal except for poor Chase who, sniffed and sneezed, tissues clutched in front of his face.

His eyes were red and puff, tears streaming down his cheeks. Not to mention that his breathes were short and laboured and every now then he'd cough painfully.

"What's wrong with him?" James questioned.

"Someone filled the breakroom up with roses and he's allergic." She offered.

"That's why we had to move." She explained.

"It's not usually this bad…" Chase sniffed.

"I barely got in the door, the smell..." He coughed.

"Best of all they were addressed to him." Foreman laughed, thumbing toward Chase.

"Well that's what you get for chatting up the radiology nurses during office hours." House bit, more than a little off put.

"House!" Wilson scolded.

**δ-δ-δ-δ-δ-δ-δ**

_Love won't be tampered with, love won't go away._

_Push it to one side and it creeps to the other._

_Louise Erdrich_

**Thursday **

Thursday saw the break room freed from roses, the bouquets sent to various patient rooms. None of who were allergic to the blossoms. Hopefully!

House couldn't help but fume a little as he scrawled various tidbits about their latest turn of patients across the whiteboard. Nothing supremely interesting, the most exotic diseases seemed to be vacationing somewhere else at the moment. The patients themselves though still seemed just as whiny as ever.

It wasn't a meeting exactly, mainly because there was not much talking being done. Cameron was in the corner, dutifully filling in a crossword, Foreman was reading some thick red covered tome and Chase… Chase was working at a rubrics-cube. Frowning as he perfected one side, then like a child realised he'd have to wreak it in order to get the others.

One of the day shift nurses knocked quietly at the door.

"Chase this was delivered to the front desk." She said palming a large blue box. She passed it to him as he set aside the puzzle and then disappeared back out into the corridor.

Silver embossing sat on the top of an otherwise plain box. 'The Blue Cat' and what an absolutely ridiculous name for a chocolate shop! Though with the quality of their sweets they can be forgiven just this once.

"Chase usually man your supposed to buy the gifts…" Foreman taunted as Chase pulled open the box.

"I don't even know who there from!" Chase frowned.

"Oh well then you definitely shouldn't eat them… Ya know with all the crazy's out there. Just send'em over this way!" Foreman smoothed, Chase rolled his eyes and then offered them around.

"Mmmm peppermint." Cameron murmured.

House breathed a sigh of relief, he'd seen Chase with chocolate on a number of occasions but knowing his luck…

Chase tried to stifle the smile, tried to dull the blush that was creeping up into his cheeks. He was flattered… and at the same time feeling a little guilty… Over House though and it was probably just stupid. Because he was in the room now and he didn't seem to care at all… Maybe Chase was taking something that had lasted a whole of five seconds a little too seriously.

"Chase you eat too many of those and you won't be able to fit into those lovely little jeans." House wanted to kick himself the moment it left his mouth… Wanted Wilson in the room so the other could slap him upside the head. He'd finally gotten something right and then when and said that! Chase though just smiled. Pulling out a candy, dark chocolate drizzled in white, like Cameron's. He popped it in his mouth and bit down, expecting soft fondant. It was peanut brittle and the cracking was audible.

"Chase are you okay?" Cameron gasped and the blonde sat forward in pain.

"I think I broke my tooth!" Chase mumbled spitting a bloody mass into his hand. House could only blink in shock…

"Are you trying to kill him?" Wilson asked much later when all the ducklings had headed home for the day.

"Of course not!" House frowned.

"Wait maybe… It would make a lot more sense…" Wilson didn't look impressed or amused.

"Maybe I'm just going about this the wrong way…" House said rumpling his nose…

**δ-δ-δ-δ-δ-δ-δ**

_If, you love someone you love their faults too. Or you love them not at all._

**Friday **

The day settled in with Chase sharing various gruesome facts about his late afternoon trip to a dentist that Cuddy had recommended. That being interrupted by the delivery of yet another package for Chase.

The immunologist fingered the brown packaging tentatively.

"Third times the charm Chase." Cameron offered and Chase pulled open the end. A grin pulled at the corners of his mouth as he fished out a DVD and CD.

"What is it?" Foreman said trying to look over Cameron's head.

"Phantom of Opera." Chase smiled. Holding up the movie and soundtrack.

"If that was my gift I'd return it. Which considering your track record it might not be such a bad idea." Cameron kicked him and House was relieved because if she hadn't he might've and that would be entirely too telling.

"I like opera." Chase frowned and then went back to smiling.

"It's actually one of my favourites… though I haven't seen the movie yet!" House couldn't help but feel a little proud of himself.

"Okay so how did you come up with that?" Wilson snorted picking at a rather questionable cafeteria salad.

"I was brilliantly deductive and just went with everything I know about Chase!" House smirked.

"So ya broke into his house." Wilson scoffed.

"Of course not!" House breathed.

"Chase has an apartment…" He frowned looking away from the other. James shook his head.

"And I thought you were nuts when Stacey was around!"

**δ-δ-δ-δ-δ-δ-δ**

_Love is our best moments and our bitterest regrets._

_Taylor Ann_

**Saturday **

"Pretty!" Cameron stated as She Foreman and Chase filed into the breakroom. A huge bunch of Sunflowers sat dead in the middle of the table. Babies breath fringing the edges. A white card sitting in the middle.

"Chase I'm gonna follow my gut and say those are for you." Cameron smiled. The blonde fought a blush and went to retrieve the card.

"What sappy poem does it have now?" Foreman snapped.

"Actually it's a dinner invitation." Chase said half biting back a laugh.

"Oh, where?" Foreman pressed.

"None of your business?" Chase scowled lightly, slipping the card into his pocket.

"Chase!" The blonde jumped another with everyone else in the room, as House shouted at him.

"What have I told you about chatting up the nurses!" House teased, voice dropping several decimals.

"Oh, bite me House…" Chase said feathers ruffled.

"Been there done that!" House smirked, feeling in a particularly tormenting mood. Chase coloured quite tellingly pink. Foreman completely obvious, though Cameron looked as though she might be catching on.

"Hey hit on all the nurses you want." House poked.

"But if they start sending you little black lacy numbers I think Cuddy will get a bit foul." House offered, not caring what Cameron may or may not be working out.

"Dinner wow… you realise of course when you show up for that he's gonna… you know… know who you are!" James teased.

"Oh, thanks for pointing that out sparky." House grumbled.

"Doctor House…"

"Yep," House stopped and turned to the guy standing over his left shoulder…

"What happened?" House moaned waking with the stale taste of blood in the back of his mouth.

"Greg Wilks punched you." Disorientation cleared and House realised he was on a hospital bed, Wilson reclined beside.

"Greg Wilks?"

"Yeah tiffany Wilks abusive line-backer husband…" James informed.

"No good deed goes unpunished." House moaned trying to sit up.

"I think you should lie back down House he really clocked you."

"I have a dinner to get to." House said swatting away hands.

"House its almost ten…"

**δ-δ-δ-δ-δ-δ-δ**

_**Sunday** _

"I kind of got stood up!" Chase breathed Foreman snorting and getting kicked once more off of Cameron.

"Chase nobody wants to hear about your ruined dinner plans at Seline's." house snapped, in a tone so foul that no one dared give a reply.

"It was you, wasn't it?" Chase smirked. Having cornered House while eating his lunch.

"It was me what." House growled genuinely oblivious.

"Sending the gifts." Chase frowned.

"Don't flatter yourself Chase." House said, so willing just to throw in the towel.

"Come on House you can't wriggle out of this like clinic duty. The flower and chocolate shops are like right around the corner from you… and the DVD and CD…" Chase smiled, smirked, half-laughed.

"My books were moved when I got home the other night… and you're the only person I know who does B and E's… Then you get knockout and my… date doesn't show… It's simple deductive reasoning really."

"Now if only you could think like that at work we wouldn't loose half as many patients." House dug and didn't know why.

"See usually I would take offence to that but it's just the way you are…" Chase frowned.

"I mean I don't really get it and I don't think that you're ever gonna tell… But would love to try'en work it out." Not what House expected at all.

"So dinner at my place, next Thursday… If you're interested…" Chase gushed, backing away as he said it as though he was weary of a reprisal.

"Chase…" He stopped.

"I'm very surprised you didn't run the other way."

"Trust me any sane, normal, rational, person would… Obviously I had to come see you…" Chase smiled faintly and then disappeared back inside.


End file.
